Before It's Too Late
by Animegirl1129
Summary: JaSpin "PCPD Officers have just been called to Port Charles University. Sources have informed us that an armed man has barricaded himself inside a classroom. Attempts to contact the gunman for negotiations have thus far been unsuccessful. More at 9."
1. Chapter 1

Before It's Too Late

_**Rated for what could be considered triggering topics. Written on request from suerum. Fic is… almost completed, but I thought I'd start posting it to motivate myself to keep working on it. OC's are mine, whether or not I want them, GH characters are not. Reviews are awesome. Enjoy!**_

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**Chapter 1  
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_PCPD Officers have just been called to the Sowers Building at Port Charles University. Sources have informed us that an armed man has barricaded himself inside the building and has a small group of students and a professor as hostages. Attempts to contact the gunman for negotiations have thus far been unsuccessful. More at 9._

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The special news bulletin that interrupted the regularly scheduled programming of every major network at approximately 8:22, went unheard by Jason Morgan, who was en route to that very place.

Since he was unaware of the crisis unfolding at the school, he was decidedly surprised to find the building Spinelli's night class was held in surrounded by the police, a few FBI trucks were even in attendance.

For a moment, Jason feared that Agent Raynor had discovered some damning new evidence and that they had gone after Spinelli post haste. He grabbed up his cell phone in his moment of panic and called his protégé's number, even more ill at ease when it directed him straight to voicemail.

He pulled his SUV to a stop alongside the lines of police tape and spotted Mac amongst the crowd of Officers and Agents. The Commissioner spotted him as well, and stepped over to Jason, likely in order to establish just what the mob had to do with this.

"What's going on?" Jason demanded, even as he threw his car into park and climbed out in a hurry. "Where's Spinelli?"

The Commissioner's brow furrowed in confusion. "You heard then?"

"Heard what? He's taking a night class, something about Shakespeare, I think." Jason explained. "I was supposed to meet him here when it got out."

"Doesn't look like that'll be happening on time. And I'm pretty sure the last thing on his mind right now is Shakespeare." Mac responded, and at Jason's continued look of confusion he continued on. "Some disgruntled student went storming in there twenty minutes ago and barricaded the doors. Twelve students – including Spinelli - and the professor, the only ones who were in the building, are being held hostage. Spinelli managed to get a call in to 911 and he's been heard several times in attempts to calm the gunman down."

Jason's eyes narrowed as he took in the FBI agents and police barricades from his altered perspective. No longer were they his enemy, but temporarily, his allies. Here he'd thought Spinelli would be safe, that he could come and go at the college without risk of being shot at or kidnapped or any of the other risks that came with being so thoroughly involved in mob life. And now some madman with a gun had Spinelli hostage?

"Wait, heard how?"

"There's a---"

It was then, just as the angry mobster was about to demand access to however they were communication with those inside, that the unmistakable sound of gunfire came from within the walls of building. Muffled as it was by the thick walls, there was no misinterpreting what that sound meant.


	2. Chapter 2

Before It's Too Late

_**Rated for what could be considered triggering topics. Written on request from suerum. Fic is… almost completed, but I thought I'd start posting it to motivate myself to keep working on it. OC's are mine, whether or not I want them, GH characters are not. Reviews are awesome. Enjoy!**_

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**Chapter 2  
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The twelve of them had been diligently working on their midterm exam when there had come a banging noise from the end of the hall. Had everyone in the class not already been present, Spinelli likely would have written it off as someone rushing in late and slamming the door in their haste. But, as they were the only class in session in that building, it raised a few heads amongst the group.

Then the noise was drawing closer, heavy, hurried footsteps that came to sudden stop right outside their door.

"Focus, guys." Professor Killian told them, even as he stepped toward the door.

Spinelli's eyes followed the movement apprehensively, and this, combined with his front row seat, meant that he was the first to see that something was amiss as the professor began backing up rather hurriedly. The next thing in sight was a long-barreled gun, some sort of automatic looking thing that looked utterly terrifying with its onyx black glint in the fluorescent lighting.

"Listen up," an unidentified character said, following the gun into the room. "You are all supposedly some rather _intelligent_ people." This was said with about as much disdain as it was possible to inflect with his words, and the disgusted glare on the gunman's face portrayed similar feelings. "So, I would suggest that you all do exactly as I say. There is no way out – all the doors are barricaded. There is no one else in the building besides us. And I am the one with the gun, so I'm in control."

Spinelli froze in his seat, just as everyone else did upon the realization that this was happening. He did, however, likely have more familiarity with such a situation than most of his classmates. He was decidedly confident that he was the only one in the room currently residing with, and occasionally sleeping with, a well-known mobster that was regularly involved with hostile situations involving guns and other implements of destruction.

"What do you want with us?" The Professor asked, voice shaking.

The gunman was not pleased by this inquiry and as a result, he aimed the weapon squarely at the instructor's head. "You are kidding me, right? You are the reason I'm doing this, you! You failed me because you thought I copied off of someone else! You cost me my scholarship, you got me kicked out of school!"

Professor Killian paled as realization took him over. "I don't… Oh. Wait, yes. Richard! Richard Aldridge. You were in one of my English classes over the winter term. Y-your paper showed as eighty some percent plagiarized when it went through the databases."

"I didn't cheat! That was _my_ paper!" The man, now identified as Richard, yelled fiercely, the gun once again crossed the room, leveling at each and every one of the students, as if to remind them that his vendetta wasn't solely focused on their Professor. With a wide sweeping gesture, he glared at his audience. "I'm sure that your Honors class here - by invitation only, as I've heard – wouldn't cheat in a million years. They're too good for that."

"They don't have anything to do with this, Richard." Killian said, trying to refocus the gunman's attention. "Why don't you just-"

He was cut off by the loud, obnoxious ringing of a cell phone, blasting some up-beat dance club song. It came from one of the girls in the back row, who must have forgotten to silence her phone before the beginnings of their exam.

"What is that?" Richard demanded, moving now to aim at her. "Turn that off! Don't answer it!"

Spinelli, seeing an opportunity to act, shoved his hand into the pocket of his coat. It had been hanging on the back of his chair through class and he hurriedly dialed 911, switching it to speakerphone. There was enough noise going on to cover any sounds that might come from the phone. His first instinct had been to call upon Jason, but he had been unsure whether or not Stone Cold would be able to answer, as he had told his protégé that he would be in business meetings while he was at class.

"Everyone!" Richard demanded, as he grabbed up the sobbing girl's cell phone. "I want everyone's phones right now! Come on now!"

There was a mad rush as the students hastened to turn over their phones, eager to comply with their captor's request. Twelve cell phones in total were handed up to the front of the room, and Richard's eyes narrowed upon Spinelli.

"Well, don't you have something for me, brainiac?"

"Alas, the Jackal does not. My phone met an unfortunate end just this morning when it fell into a rather ill-placed puddle, as it were. You can check, if you are so inclined, but I have no cell phone on my person." Spinelli lied, hoping he would not be called out on his fabrication.

The gunman fixed him with a guarded glare for a long moment, but Spinelli – used to such looks, from years of residing with Jason and dealing with Sonny – was not as affected as others would have been under such intense scrutiny. "Fine." Richard finally huffed, gathering his pile of phones up. One at a time, he stomped on the devices until nothing but empty shards were left scattered about the floor.

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At the sound of the shots, Mac raced over to one of the FBI vans and Jason followed after him, despite the shouted attempts to keep him behind the police line.

"Jason, you can't-" Mac began, pausing at the back doors to prevent Jason from getting any further, but the mobster fixed him with his well known stone cold glare.

"You're not keeping me away from Spinelli." He growled out in terse response. "I'll be involved in this with or without you, your call."

With a resigned sigh, the commissioner nodded and pulled the doors open, ushering Jason into the van. "Spinelli called 911 on his phone and we can hear everything that's being said inside the room. He's been trying to talk the guy down." He explained, pressing a button so that the audio played out loud and not to the headphones of those occupying the vehicle. But there was only a daunting static silence and muffled sobbing noises.

"Rewind it." Jason demanded. "To before the gunfire."


	3. Chapter 3

Before It's Too Late

_**Rated for what could be considered triggering topics. Written on request from suerum. Fic is… almost completed, but I thought I'd start posting it to motivate myself to keep working on it. OC's are mine, whether or not I want them, GH characters are not. Reviews are awesome. Enjoy!**_

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**Chapter 3  
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Richard was pacing like a caged animal, back and forth along the front row of the classroom. He was muttering to himself and casting suspicious glances at his well-panicked captives.

This, Spinelli knew, was not shaping up to end well.

"Er, excuse me, Richard, is it not?" He forced himself to say. Talking was nearly impossible given that his heart seemed to have taken up residence somewhere in his throat, but someone had to do something. He swallowed and pushed his chair back so that he could stand up, watching the gunman carefully.

The gun was aimed at him, then. "What the hell do you want?"

"Ugh, the Jackal must first say that this is a most disconcerting position to be in and if you would just kindly angle… No. O-okay." The look on their captor's face pretty much guaranteed that that wasn't going to happen. "Well, then. Alright. The Jackal, that is I, was just wondering what it is you intend to do here?"

Richard's eyes narrowed upon the stupid boy brazen enough to question him. "Yeah, yeah. I'll tell you." He said with a kind of incredulous, if slightly insane, laugh. "I," the gun moved off of Spinelli and to the girl sitting at the other end of his row. "Hmm, what am I going to do with you all?" Then it moved to the two brothers who sat behind her, and then onto each and every other student in the room as he spoke. "I'm going to shoot each and every one of you in your talented little heads." By then, the gun had refocused itself on Spinelli, who was still standing. "That sound good?"

Spinelli paled, as did everyone else in the room. "A logical mind such as yours must realize that such actions are not going to accomplish anything." He gestured around the room. "In harming us, which, I pointedly add, you haven't done yet, how do you imagine that you'll get out of here?"

The armed man shook his head, and the rather chilling reply to Spinelli's inquiry came to light. "What makes you think I have plans to get out?"

This, Spinelli realized, only served to make talking his opponent down all the more essential. It meant they all had a whole lot more to lose in the event that shots started firing. If Richard's view of all this was not promptly changed, none of them would likely be walking out of here. None of them would be seeing their families or their friends ever again. He would not be seeing his family again. He wouldn't be seeing his friends again. He wouldn't be seeing Jason – whom he counted among both groups – again.

"Surely only a prideless coward would make such plans." Spinelli said, his own eyes focusing past the barrel of the gun and instead on its wielder. "Slaying 13 people in cold blood holds no purpose for you. You want revenge, do you not, upon Professor Killian for failing you? – However justly or unjustly he did so. But in situations such as this, it is not the killer who earns the sympathy of those in the public, but the victims. The one responsible is at best labeled a troubled, unstable youth, and at worst, a murderous, malevolent monster."

Richard was literally shaking with anger over Spinelli's comments. Lip curled upwards in a vicious snarl, eyes narrowed pointedly at the audacious student willing to say such things. The meaning behind the words did nothing, only aggravated him further. "You do realize that I'm the one with the gun, don't you?" He spat furiously.

Spinelli nodded. "It is, shall we say, not the Jackal's first time in such a situation." Granted, typically, in other instances in which guns were present, so was Jason. Which wasn't the case here. "Truly, I can assure you that actions such as those you are contemplating are not worth it in the end."

"What do you know?" The gunman scoffed. "You don't know anything about me, what I'm dealing with. All because of him." The gun rotated to face the professor once again. "He ruined my life, so now I'll ruin his. His and yours."

"The Jackal-" Spinelli began again, but then there were gunshots that seemed ten thousand times louder than any Spinelli had ever heard. All he could do in the instant the attack began was freeze in place as Professor Killian fell. The reality of what was occurring hit him abruptly and it was all he could do to remember to get out of the way. He saw two other classmates fall in the hail of bullets, the two brothers in the row behind him, and then the girl to his side followed just seconds later.

He was almost out of range, almost on the floor, when a piercing pain – so much worse than the accidental wound he'd managed to inflict upon himself - shot through his chest. There was another in his arm.

Despite the pain, agonizing as it was, and the fact that breath was coming harder and harder to him, he was as still as possible where he dropped. A short moment later, there was one more shot, and Richard fell, too.

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"What were you thinking! You completely clueless idiot! What were you trying to do!" These were Jason's words upon hearing the audio of the moments leading up to the gunfire. He meant none of them, but the sheer panic of not knowing what had happened inside, just knowing that it involved bullets in way too close of a proximity to Spinelli, was enough to seriously distress him.

Mac, still standing beside him and now listening in real time for any sounds from the gunman, turned to regard him calmly, as if nothing was wrong. "Gotta give the kid credit for thinking on his feet." He said, and he sounded almost proud.

Pride he would feel eventually, too, Jason figured. What Spinelli had done had certainly been brave. There was no denying that. But, if it had gotten him killed then it would not be pride Jason would be dealing with, rather devastation. The only way to know was to see for himself. He took off toward the doors quickly, but not quickly enough.

Mac caught his arm before he'd gotten very far at all - and really it just seemed to get farther and farther away from him with every step he took."Jason! Jason, stop! We still don't know if it's secure." Mac said, motioning two officers over to aid him in the efforts that restraining Jason would surely entail. "We don't know who was shot."

It was then that the previously barricaded doors flew open and a couple of students raced out. Some had stayed behind to check the injured, they reported, and the gunman was down, they said. But Jason was not happy to see that Spinelli wasn't among those escaping.

In the mass chaos that ensued with the student's escape, and with the officers rushing in to clear the building, Jason slipped away from the officers Mac had left him with and made it into the building without much by way of obstruction. It wasn't hard to find the room, either. One of the escaping students must have run through a pool of blood in their haste to get away. It was simple enough to back-track the trail of footprints.

He was not the first to get to the room, though. A handful of officers dressed in bullet proof gear were pulling the rest of the uninjured students away from the fallen, sending them out of the building, but Jason's focus was solely on Spinelli.

Spinelli. Spinelli lying on the ground, in a puddle of his own blood. There was a gash along his arm – that was the first thing Jason had seen, as the younger had landed on his side. As he drew nearer, around the side of the table to drop to his knees beside Spinelli's prone form, he saw the second wound in his chest.

He was reaching out before he ever realized he was moving, his fingers landing against Spinelli's neck and searching in desperate hope for a pulse. "Spinelli, come on." He said, mostly to himself, as he cared not who else heard him. Blood was soaking into his jeans where he kneeled beside his wounded protégé, but that was hardly his concern. "Damn it, Spinelli, stay."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that the officers checking the other victims were not finding many positive results. They'd given up on two of the three other students (the third, one of the two brothers, was still dubiously alive) and the professor who had taken fire, and for a moment he feared that the unthinkable might happen. That Spinelli might be similarly given up on. But there was a beat, slow and not terribly regular, under Jason's fingers.

"Hey, over here!" Jason declared, as he moved instead to grip Spinelli's hand.

Within moments, paramedics had shooed him away from Spinelli.


	4. Chapter 4

Before It's Too Late

_**Rated for what could be considered triggering topics. Written on request from suerum. Fic is… almost completed, but I thought I'd start posting it to motivate myself to keep working on it. OC's are mine, whether or not I want them, GH characters are not. Reviews are awesome. Enjoy!**_

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**Chapter 4  
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Jason paced endlessly across the surgical waiting room to which he had rather hastily been confined. The ambulance ride over here had been hectic enough – with the medics obviously concerned over the amount of blood loss and the decreased lung function of their patient. It had seemed to have taken forever to arrive at the ER, and then, in seconds, the doctors and nurses who had been waiting for the incoming victims of the hostage situation had taken him away. Wheeled him into the depths of the hospital where Jason could not follow even though he so desperately wanted to.

At some point, someone had told him that Spinelli had been rushed through radiology and straight into surgery. That was all the information he'd gotten out of them. And somewhere in the chaos someone had offered him clean scrubs to replace the clothes covered in Spinelli's blood.

The other boy, the only other one who had been alive besides Spinelli, he had died en route to General Hospital. Bled out, bled into his brain or something, Jason didn't even know. He just knew that it made it seem like the chances were worse for Spinelli.

More and more pacing. Seconds and minutes and hours passed in what seemed like days and weeks and years and still no word came of Spinelli's condition. It was all too long without news.

Surely someone had to come and tell him something at some point in this chaos? They couldn't just leave him sitting here not knowing for much longer. Even if it was just to tell him that it would be a while until they had actual news – it would be something, it would mean that Spinelli was still fighting, still holding on. That's what he really wanted to know.

All in all, it was about five hours after arrival at General Hospital that Dr. Hunter stepped into the room. He look haggard and worn out, Jason knew the surgery must have been difficult, whatever they'd been doing.

Jason crossed the room and paused just in front of the doctor. "Is he okay?"

Matt sighed. "It was touch and go for a while. He crashed in triage and we had to establish an airway before we could do much else. The chest wound was a through and through, but it shattered a couple of ribs. The fragments from the broken ribs as well as the bullets path punctured his lung – so we had to insert a chest tube." He rubbed a hand over his face in futile attempts to regain some energy.

At this point, with such major developments having occurred even before they got Spinelli into surgery, Jason felt compelled to sit down before gravity and shock did it for him. Matt sat down beside him and continued on in his explanation. "Ugh, we got him into surgery just as soon as he was stable enough to go. It was exploratory, to check for bleeding and to do what we could for the lung."

This was sounding worse and worse by the moment. Jason closed his eyes. "What could you do?"

"We removed a lobe of his right lung. It's still functional, but he'll have decreased lung capacity if he makes it through the next few days."

That was most assuredly not what he had been hoping to hear. "What else? The… the bleeding?"

"The bleeding was manageable. But, one of the bone fragments did some damage to the pericardium, which surrounds the heart. Caused it to fill up with fluid and make it difficult for the heart to pump blood out." Matt explained, it was one of the more detailed processes involved with Spinelli's injuries. "Once we found it, we drained it and placed a second chest tube." Jason had had enough, he could tell, but he wasn't finished. "The wound to the arm wasn't a through and through, but we have gotten the bullet out. It shattered the humerus and that will need surgery to repair, once he's stable enough to be able to handle it. For now, we have his arm immobilized and we're giving him some pretty heavy duty pain medicine."

"When will he be stable enough?"

Dr. Hunter considered for a moment. "It's hard to say. It depends how he is when he wakes up. We don't know when that will be either." He added, seeing the next question coming. "He's in recovery now, and he should wake up soon. But if his injuries were worse than we perceived them to be… well, we just have to wait and see."

Jason sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "Can I see him?"

"We'll have him in a room shortly, someone will bring you down once he's settled."

"Alright." 

It ended up being close to another hour before Robin showed up to take him to Spinelli.

"I heard what Spinelli did – Mac was by, earlier – It was really brave of him to try to talk the guy down." She said, trying to comfort him. It wasn't working. "Jase?"

"He shouldn't have needed to be brave, he should have been safe there." He paused in their journey toward the elevators. "Of all the things that could have possibly gone wrong in him living with me, being involved in my life, the thing that nearly takes him away from me isn't even remotely related to what I do? How am I supposed to protect him from things like what happened tonight?"

"You can't." She responded with a shrug. "What you do, you have at least some control over that. You can know who to watch and who to… do whatever it is you do… to. You can know who to trust and who you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. But you can't control the rest of the world. People are always doing crazy things. People are always committing crimes and being killed." He knew all of this already, of course, but it seemed to be helping. "You aren't the only person in Port Charles that the police have to deal with, you know."

They stepped into the elevator, which quietly whirred to life and started its descent to the lower floors of General Hospital. "I'm supposed to be able to keep him safe. All the people I've cared about and lost – I can't, won't lose Spinelli, too."

Silence fell between them after that and she led him wordlessly to the room Spinelli had been moved to. It was only when they were just outside that she addressed him again. "He's still asleep. If he wakes up, let someone know so we can evaluate him, and try to keep him calm and quiet."

He nodded in understanding and ducked into the room. But, he was not prepared for the sight that greeted him. He didn't think he would ever actually be prepared to see Spinelli hurt.

Jason crossed the room slowly, eyes moving over the unconscious form of his protégé. "What were you thinking?" He asked quietly. What he could see of Spinelli's chest, between blankets and the open hospital gown, was covered in stark white bandages. Tubes came from both of his sides and disappeared over one of the railings on the bed. Then there were the typical wires. IV's giving him fluids and blood and some hopefully very potent pain medications. Things monitoring his vitals – blood pressure, heart rate, temperature. So many wires all over him. His arm was braced and wrapped up, too, as Dr. Hunter had said it would be. "I don't think I'm ever letting you out of my sight again, you got that?"

Silence was the only reply to his inquiry, which was what he had expected, he supposed. All the same, he claimed the chair that sat beside Spinelli's bed – it would be his for as long as Spinelli was here, nothing would move him – and his hand sought out Spinelli's uninjured one amidst the tangle of wires and tubing keeping him stable.

Squeezing lightly on the boy's hand, he settled in for the wait. "You're just asleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

Only this was so much different that Spinelli simply sleeping. Jason had seen that himself enough times to know. He knew a lot actually, likely more than anyone else in town. He knew that Spinelli was going to hate all of this. The pain, for one thing, he'd hate that. He would pretend like it wasn't a big deal, that it didn't hurt, because he always tried to ensure that Jason never thought him weak – he was sorely misinformed on this point, as Jason thought of him as one of the strongest people he'd ever met. Spinelli would hate that he would be useless and dependent, unable to retreat into cyberspace due to the state of his arm. He would hate that – and Jason was one of only a few people who were aware of this one – he wouldn't be able to sleep on his stomach, as he always did, even if it meant sleeping half on Jason's chest, too. Most of all, he would hate himself. For not being able to save the professor and the three fallen classmates. For not talking the crazed madman down. For everything.

And Jason would tolerate hating the state of his medical condition and the effects it would have on Spinelli's life. Tolerate, but do his best to quell. What he would not tolerate was Spinelli being guilt ridden over the incident. He had saved eight of the others, he had saved himself. That was what was important. Especially when it could have been so, so much worse.

"You'll be okay."


	5. Chapter 5

Before It's Too Late

_**Rated for what could be considered triggering topics. Written on request from suerum. FIC IS NOW OFFICIALLY FINISHED. It will have 8 chapters, total. OC's are mine, whether or not I want them, GH characters are not. Reviews are awesome. Enjoy!**_

_*****NOTE: This is what Chapter 5 actually should have been. I royally failed and skipped a chapter last week.***  
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**Chapter 5  
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Some four hours after finally getting into Spinelli's room, Jason found himself woken by the sound of arguing – and when had he even managed to fall asleep? – just outside of the door. He reluctantly released his hold on Spinelli's hand and moved to investigate the annoying disturbance.

"-don't care, I want to see Spinelli!" A childish remark from a childish speaker, Jason spotted Maxie standing in the hallways arguing with Dr. Hunter.

Jason glanced at the clock posted in the hallway. 8:37. Nearly twelve hours had gone by since Spinelli's ordeal had begun. And it was entirely way too early for this.

"Maxie." He snapped at her. He was already on edge and suspicious of her presence and he had good reason to be. Several months earlier, she had up and disappeared, gone to stay in Paris, or Milan, or some other fashion capital of the world that Jason didn't care about, for Kate. She hadn't told Spinelli, she'd just left, and Spinelli had all but fallen apart over it. It had been in the fallout from that experience that had first led he and Spinelli to start the… whatever it was that was going on between them.

Maxie turned on him then, now ignoring Matt completely. "Jason, you'll let me in to see Spinelli, right?"

He didn't want to. Really, he didn't want her anywhere near Spinelli after what she did to him when she left. But on the other hand, leaving Spinelli alone wasn't an appealing thought either and he really, really needed coffee if he was going to stay awake and look out for Spinelli. "For a few minutes." He agreed. "That's it."

She nodded and slipped in and he left the room.

He was gone no more than five minutes. That was it, just long enough to grab a cup of coffee from the cafeteria and make his return to Spinelli's room. And apparently, five minutes was all it took for Maxie to cause trouble.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, Spinelli?" She all but demanded of the still-unconscious boy. "You're not like Johnny or Jason, you're not supposed to be idiotic and stupid and go playing the hero trying to save everybody else. You're not a hero, Spinelli, so stop trying to be."

Pride and anger hit Jason simultaneously as he stepped back into the room. Pride, as he had predicted, was for Spinelli, who'd risked his life – it was still at risk, shouldn't be past tense just yet – to save all those people. Anger, at Maxie, for her words, for demeaning Spinelli's sacrifice.

"He is a hero." **Jason flatly denied her erroneous assertion.**

Maxie rolled her eyes and glared at him. "So says the poster-boy for running into stupid situations." She scoffed at him, having now claimed Spinelli's good hand, his left, for herself. "It's your fault he did this, isn't it? He's always trying to be like you so he tried to play the hero."

"Everyone in that classroom would have been dead – Spinelli would be dead – if it weren't for what he did in there. He did the right thing, tried to save lives, so don't talk like you know what happened." Jason warned her. She hadn't heard the recording. She hadn't heard Richard Aldridge confess that he had no plans for escape because he was taking them all out with him. She hadn't heard Spinelli be insurmountably brave with a gun trained on him. "You should go."

"Not a chance." She countered. And, really, he should have known that she wouldn't abide to his 'for a few minutes' stipulation. "I'm staying with Spinelli, I'll be here when he wakes up."

More anger, this time at her actions more so than her words. "You think you can just come back here and pick up where you left off with him?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but, yes. Spinelli will understand. I had to leave for work; it wasn't like I really wanted to go."

Jason felt something in his chest roll with the mere idea of Spinelli going back to her, giving her another chance. "It's not gonna happen this time. Even Spinelli has his limits and you've stretched them to the breaking point. Every time he starts to forget what you did to him, I'll be there to remind him. So, I suggest you save your dignity, Maxie, and leave now before I throw you out."

Maxie laughed at him in response, sputtering something that could have been 'you wouldn't dare.' But Jason was beyond caring. She was in his spot beside Spinelli, she didn't know anything about him at all, and she had to go.

"Don't think I won't." He amended, advancing a few feet towards her. Jason was fully prepared to remove her from the room if she refused to go.

Luckily, she relented, slowly getting to her feet and muttering under her breath at him as she made for the door.

Once he was sure she was gone, he reclaimed both the chair and his grip on Spinelli's hand. "Don't listen to her," he said. "You're a hero and nothing anyone says can change that."

* * *

Damian Spinelli was slowly coming back to awareness.

First, there was the soft, repetitive motion of fingers tracing trails up and down the length of his arm. If it wasn't so soothing, he probably would have been worried by the fact that he didn't know who was doing it.

Then there was the voice. He couldn't quite make out the words – they sounded muffled and distorted, like someone was talking underwater – but they sounded reassuring and he found that he really didn't want the speaker to stop.

Fingers carded through his hair every once in a while, too, and that feeling was equally welcome, if distantly familiar.

"Mmm…" He groaned in quiet contentment, but the single noise unexpectedly resulted in a sharp, intense burn in his chest. His eyes shot open in shock as the memories of the classroom flooded back into his brain – exams interrupted by footsteps, long-barreled weapons leveled at his head, a disgruntled student with no end-game, and then white-hot pain in his chest and he couldn't breathe and….

"Spinelli!"

And then Jason was there, the touch, the voice, all him. Right there and bringing him back into reality, keeping him grounded and still. "Spinelli, you're alright. Just… calm down. You're okay. Stay still for me, okay?" He requested, voice quiet and calming, just as it had been all along. Spinelli watched him hit the 'call' button for a nurse. "Try not to move too much, alright?"

Slowly, as the realization came to him that he was in a hospital, no longer in the accursed classroom with gun-toting lunatics, he managed to nod. "Ston-" He tried to say, but the words caught in his throat as the sharp pain in his chest flared up again.

Jason hushed him. "Try not to talk, either," he amended his previous statement. "The doctors will come and get you checked out, make sure you're good." One of his hands curled around Spinelli's, slowly raising it to his lips. "You'll be okay."


	6. Chapter 6

Before It's Too Late

_**Rated for what could be considered triggering topics. Written on request from suerum. FIC IS NOW OFFICIALLY FINISHED. It will have 8 chapters, total. OC's are mine, whether or not I want them, GH characters are not. Reviews are awesome. Enjoy!**_

_*****NOTE: This is what Chapter 6 actually should have been. I royally failed and skipped a chapter last week. If you've already seen this, go back to Chapter 5...***  
**_

* * *

**Chapter 6  
**

* * *

Once Matt showed up, along with a handful of other doctors and nurses, Jason had promptly been kicked out of the room. They'd taken Spinelli for tests, to see how he'd dealt with the surgery, if he needed anything else done before they could get to his arm, they told him. It would be a while.

He called Max on his way to the cafeteria, hoping for maybe a change of clothes from the Penthouse, maybe a bag of stuff for Spinelli, too. The loyal guard assured him that he'd be by as soon as possible, but only once he'd asked after Spinelli's condition. With that taken care of, Jason was intent upon pouring more caffeine into his sleep-deprived system.

However, upon purchasing his coffee, he found the cafeteria was more crowded than he'd expected it to be. A group of eight was huddled around one of the tables in the back corner of the room, and they seemed eerily familiar. Spinelli's classmates, Jason realized. He'd seen some of them when they'd fled the building the previous night.

Jason approached their over-packed table with two drink carries filled with a mix of cups of hot chocolate and coffee.

Amongst the appreciative replies to his offering and following quick introductions, one girl spoke up – Leah was her name. "You were there last night, too, right?"

He nodded, pulled up a chair of his own. "Spinelli's my roommate. I was there to pick him up."

"Is he okay?" Another girl, Emily, asked him, concern clearly written on all of their faces.

Jason sighed, dragged a hand over his face before downing a good portion of his drink. "They did surgery on him last night, he just woke up a little while ago and the doctor's are looking him over before they send him off for another operation."

Sighs of relief came forth from the crowd, then. "Does he know about the others yet?" The first girl asked him, eyeing the television in the corner of the room that's airing news story after news story about the incident at the college.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it before they kicked me out."

One boy, Aiden, sitting in the corner of the group, spoke up then. "It's my fault." He mumbled out, and all heads wheeled to face him at once. "I… I knew Richard. He was in a class with me last semester and… and he… I should have seen this coming. I should have reported him or something, the way he acted."

"You couldn't have known he'd do something like this." A second boy, James, countered. "The guy was crazy."

"No, you don't…" Aiden continued. "I knew how crazy he was. He… he got told off by the professor in my other class for texting or talking or something, I don't even remember what for, but he threw a huge fit about it. I thought he was gonna haul off and hit the instructor, but a couple of the students talked him down. If we'd reported him or something… maybe this wouldn't have happened."

The other students all offered reassurances and kind words to their guilt-ridden classmate, but Jason wasn't listening to them anymore. This really was no one's fault and he knew that, he did. No one but the shooter himself was to blame and he was already dead and gone, but that didn't mean that none of them were thinking through what-if's and maybe's. Just as Aiden was and just as Jason was.

What if he'd needed Spinelli's help on something for the organization last night? What if he'd had Jackal P.I. work to do? What if he hadn't been at the school? What if Jason had been there, too?

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket – probably Max – and it was all the incentive he needed to get up and go. "I'm going back to Spinelli's room to wait – you guys should go home, get some rest. He won't be up for visitors for a while, probably."

Slowly, the students nodded in agreement, but none of them seemed ready to leave just yet. "Tell him we'll see him later, then." James offered, waving Spinelli's roommate off as he headed for the cafeteria's exit.

"I will." Jason promised.

* * *

The last thing Spinelli remembered was counting. 100… 99… 98… 97. He didn't recall hearing 96, so he figured the anesthesia for the surgery to repair his arm had kicked in by then. Starting at 100 was pretty pointless, he figured.

The next thing Spinelli remembered was completely unrelated. In his drugged-out, put to sleep, state, his mind wandered. Wandered four months, three weeks and two days into the past when he was broken over Maxie's abrupt departure from his life and Jason was there helping him pick up the pieces.

He had no idea why this memory came to the forefront of his subconscious mind, but he was decidedly disinclined to complain about it. He rather liked recalling the details of that night and those that had come after it.

_It had been nearly two weeks since Maxie had bailed on him, and by then it was clear that she wasn't coming back. Spinelli... had taken it hard. He'd been moping around at Jake's for a while, and he had consumed a fair amount of alcohol while there, but now he just wanted to be home._

_He walked into the penthouse, his feet dragging with every step he took. Spinelli was totally exhausted, he felt as though his very soul was bruised. For a brief moment he pondered that thought - was such a thing even possible? - and then the bright flare of inquisitiveness vanished and he simply stood by the open door, half in and half out of the entryway, too uninspired to move another inch._

_"Spinelli?" The familiar voice was distant and garbled as though it was coming to him through a long, dark tunnel. He averted his head, if there was someone there, anyone, he didn't want them to see him in this defeated state._

_A gentle hand clasped his shoulder and lightly tugged at him. He didn't care, forward, backward, standing still, really what did it even matter now?_

_Admittedly, this was one of the darker moments he'd had in dealing with Maxie's cruel departure, but then everything changed for him. _

_Some of it, the exact memories and precise details of how it happened, he lost to the alcoholic haze in his mind. He never really figured out how exactly Jason went from standing beside him in the entryway of the Penthouse to Jason pulling him past the regrettably pink room - and all of its equally regrettable memories - towards the room at the end of the hall. _

_By the next morning – when the hangover had worn off, anyway – he was almost happy again. Spinelli had started to believe he was never going to get to feel that again, at least not for a long, long time. _

_But they never talked about it. Ever. Not three days later when Jason came home late after some business trouble and lured Spinelli away from his laptop and back to his room. Not a week after that when Spinelli accidentally caught Jason in the shower. Not any of the times they were together over the next few months. Not even when Spinelli found out that Sam had split on Jason just days after Maxie had left him. They'd had some big disagreement - over having kids or something, Jason had never told him and Spinelli had no idea where anyone had stood on the issue – and it had ended on amicable terms, but Sam had gone off travelling or something to deal with it. On the plus side, Sam's trip had left McCall and Jackal down one member, and so Jason picked up the slack. _

_Sometimes, if he happened to look up suddenly Spinelli would catch Jason looking at him, with some indecipherable expression on his face and he would immediately look away whenever their eyes met._

_That peculiar behavior was wholly contradictory to the one and only thing that Spinelli found unsettling about the unnamable thing that had formed between them. If unsaid rule number one was Do Not Talk About It, capital letters and all, then unsaid rule number two had to be No Kissing. Rule number two was by no means as strictly abided by as rule number one – Jason would kiss him, on rare occasion, and if Spinelli initiated it, Jason would respond – but it came with strings attached. Kissing led to Jason pushing him away, not coming to him for varying lengths of times. The longest had been two weeks, and Jason had actually disappeared on him for a few days that time, which had about killed Spinelli (nearly another betrayal, nearly another person he cared about up and leaving without any notice). It baffled Spinelli to no end, and it hurt, this odd aversion to kissing. _

_Not that it wasn't a really cool not-relationship to be in or anything. That was hardly the case. As much as Jason's behavior put him off at times – he eventually kind of stopped trying to kiss Jason for fear of getting pushed away one time too many, and he never brought it up because he didn't want Jason to walk away – it had its plus sides. _

_Jason was always around him, now, always protecting him and looking out for him in ways he hadn't before they'd started getting together. Even Sonny's irritable comments of 'freak boy' and 'go back to whatever planet you beamed down from' were brought to a swift end the second Jason heard them uttered. Whatever was between them might have been unsaid, but Jason wasn't going to let Spinelli take that from anyone. _

Spinelli's lengthy inner-analysis of the workings of his relationship with Jason came to an abrupt end when words from an unfamiliar voice started filtering into his brain. Slowly, as the anesthesia they'd dosed him with for the surgery began to wear off, he realized that he was hearing bits and pieces of a duo of nurses talking about the recent dramatic events at the college.

"-kid was there, huh? Lucky one, he is, then. I heard the other four people who were hit didn't make it. Just him." One nurse says, obviously oblivious to her patient's current state of consciousness.

The words took a long moment to register in his drug-clouded mind but when they did the effect was devastating. Spinelli's mind reeled with thoughts that were simply overwhelming when he should have been relaxing after undergoing his second surgery in twelve hours. Who else had been victims of the unstable Richard Alridge? Memories of others falling around him – the professor, the two brothers and the girl around him – they had to be the ones who'd suffered fatal wounds. Why had he survived when no one else had?

Suddenly breathing was hard, rather impossible. Machines surrounding him beeped in frantic protest as his heart raced in his chest and he gasped for air, drawing the attention of the gossiping nurses.

Dead. They were dead. He'd failed, hadn't saved them. They were dead because he'd failed…


	7. Chapter 7

Before It's Too Late

_**Rated for what could be considered triggering topics. Written on request from suerum. **__**FIC IS NOW OFFICIALLY FINISHED. Just one more epilogue-ish chapter to go on this. OC's are mine, whether or not I want them, GH characters are not. Reviews are awesome. Enjoy!**_

* * *

**Chapter 7  
**

* * *

'_Code Blue in OR Recovery… Code Blue in OR Recovery…_'

The message had gone out hospital-wide on the PA system, as all alerts and pages did. Jason had just finished changing – he'd gotten held up talking to Max, and then had a phone call from Sonny following that - and was on his way back to the waiting area by Spinelli's room when he'd heard it and even though he had no way of really knowing who the call referred to, somehow he did. It was Spinelli.

He knew that Spinelli was in the OR. Given the time since he'd last seen the younger man, he was probably in recovery by now. He just knew.

So what had gone wrong?

His pace quickened as he neared the waiting room he knew they'd send him off to – no way would he be getting in to wherever they were working on Spinelli – and he just let go. Pacing, back and forth and back and forth across the span of the room. Here they'd had Spinelli away from him for hours and now this? This was supposed to be the easy surgery, the non-life threatening surgery. Jason had thought that Spinelli was pretty much out of the woods at this point and now they'd called a Code Blue – whatever that was code for, he knew it wasn't good – on him. More pacing, cursing under his breath.

He couldn't even go after the guy who'd done this to Spinelli. The coward had gone and killed himself before Jason could get his hands on him…

It was too much all at once. Without a thought, he hauled off and slammed his fist into the nearest wall. It caved with surprising ease under his hand, but he knew he'd probably done more damage to his hand than to the wall in the process. Not that he cared.

The pain in his hand made the unnamable pain in his heart hurt marginally less.

Robin found him thirty minutes later. He was sitting on the floor with his head in his uninjured hand and the one that was bruised and bleeding and probably broken curled into his chest. `

"Jase?" She said hesitantly, obviously unnerved by both the sight of her friend and of the damage done to the wall, as she put the situation together. "Come on, let me see your hand."

"Spinelli?" He asked, ignoring her request.

"He stopped breathing in Recovery. They think he had a panic attack or something that really irritated his lungs, but he's stable now. He'll be back in his room soon." Robin told him. "But you'll be in the ER getting your hand x-rayed, apparently."

"Hands fine." Jason mumbled out, still keeping it held protectively close to his chest. "I don't need the ER."

The doctor fixed him with a withering stare. "_Jase…_" She said, arms folded over her chest. "You do, and you know you do. The sooner we get it checked out, the sooner you can get back to Spinelli."

Jason gave in just as reluctantly as Robin had figured he would. But Spinelli was the best way to motivate him into any sort of action at all, evidently. "Fine." He said, getting to his feet. "I want to get back up here to Spinelli as fast as possible."

* * *

When Spinelli woke up again, he was totally alone. He was back in the room he'd been in earlier, with Jason, but no one else was here now. His mind was hazy still, as if some rather potent drugs were swimming around in his head and keeping him from thinking too deeply about anything at all. He felt tired and just overwhelmingly sore, as if he'd just done something that required a hell of a lot of adrenaline. Muscles hurt, bones hurt, everything, it seemed, hurt.

Slowly, as he lay there in the hospital bed, dazed and confused, it started to come back to him again. What he'd heard those nurses chatting so casually about when he'd last woken up. The memory, like everything, was clouded and distorted and he had to fight to remember what he'd heard exact. Had it been three dead? Four? Yes, four.

To his own credit, he didn't panic this time or set off any alarms on the machines monitoring his vitals. He was too numb. So Spinelli just stared at the wall across from him and tried to forget everything he'd tried to remember.

* * *

That was how Jason found him, an hour later, when he returned from his dubiously consented to detour to the ER. He'd had his hand x-rayed, had a couple of stitches and some bandages put on, and then had his hand splinted. No big deal for him at all – other than that it had kept him away from Spinelli for far longer than he had ever wanted to be.

Robin had practically forced a couple of rather effective painkillers down his throat, so he didn't even have the distraction of the pain in his hand to suppress the crushing feeling in his chest that swelled up every time he even thought of Spinelli.

The near catatonic state he discovered Spinelli in upon his return did not ease the feeling any.

"Hey." Jason said, claiming the chair that had been his for the many hours it had taken Spinelli to first wake up. "You alright?"

No answer. Spinelli just blinked absently as he continued to fixate on the wall opposite him.

"Spinelli." He tried again, and still the younger remained unresponsive. With a sigh, Jason pressed onward. "You scared me, you know. Not just… a little while ago, with what happened in the OR, but last night, too. I heard everything, all of it. It was really smart to call like you did – no one would have even known about it until it was too late if you hadn't. And I wish you hadn't had to go through that, trying to talk him down. But you did everything you could, you know that, right?"

That got him a reaction. Spinelli broke his insistent stare directed at the wall, dropped his gaze to stare at the blankets bunched up around his hips.

Jason reached out, caught Spinelli's uninjured hand in his own uninjured hand. "If you hadn't done what you did, you wouldn't be here. There wouldn't be a whole group of your classmates sitting in the cafeteria waiting to see you. To tell you how brave you were."

"Your Jackal does not consider his actions to be so valiant. Not when several of those present weren't as fortunate as I."

Jason, while simply glad to hear him talk again, wasn't going to let Spinelli think that way. "There wasn't anything else you could have done, Spinelli. It would have been a lot worse if you hadn't tried to talk Aldridge down. Your classmates are proud of you. The police, even Mac, they're all proud of what you did in there. I'm proud of you." His fingers moved of their own accord, drawing random patterns and shapes over Spinelli's hand. "I don't even know what I would have done if you hadn't been okay."

Spinelli looked at him, then. Finally. With red-rimmed green eyes that told Jason that he had most definitely taken way too long in the ER.

And he probably should have figured this out for himself a long, long time ago. He'd had months to do so, really. But all he'd done was try to avoid it. Jason had just pushed Spinelli away every time he got too close, every time he got too invested, too attached, to this thing they had going on. He ignored the hurt looks Spinelli gave him when he did try to distance himself, and he ignored how much it hurt seeing Spinelli's hurt looks. But he should have known and he should have acted way sooner than this. Nearly losing Spinelli should not have been the driving factor that made him realize what he was slowly letting slip away from him.

Actions and words jumbled up in his head and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what he was supposed to say or do to get Spinelli to understand what he wanted to explain. It should have been easy. Three words. Just three small words that held a hell of a lot of meaning. But this was Spinelli and three words just weren't enough.

"Stone Cold?" Spinelli prompted, when Jason's silence had stretched on to the point of concerning.

"Maxie's back." Jason decided on, despite all of the other things he wanted to say. "I don't know if it's just because Mac told her what happened or if it's for good. She was here for a few minutes, earlier, before you woke up. She said she wanted to pick up where you left off." Then he waited. Spinelli's reaction would determine just what Jason admitted to.

Spinelli frowned at this new piece of information. "The Jackal is not interested in pursuing any sort of relationship with the Traitorous One. Not again." He answered, which was what Jason had silently been hoping to hear. "Surely Stone Cold was aware of that."

"I… I just wanted to be sure." Jason countered, moving to shift from his chair beside Spinelli to instead sit on the edge of the bed. "Before I tell you something I should have made clear a long time ago."

The younger man watched him carefully; obviously wary of whatever his mentor-and-lover intended to say.

"This thing between us. It, ugh, it needs to stop. Now."

Spinelli paled, the response seeming even more intensified by the stark, hospital white of everything surrounding him and the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights above. "I… pardon?" It had to be the first time Jason had ever acknowledged that there was a thing going on between them, and now he wanted it ended?

"It needs to end, so that I can do it right." He amended his previous statement in what was probably the only way it could turn out to be positive. "You don't even know how much you mean to me and I haven't tried to show you. All I've done was try to push you away whenever you started to get to close, whenever I started feeling too… attached. And I could have lost you last night without ever even realizing what I was avoiding."

He couldn't tell Jason that his actions hadn't hurt him, hadn't made him doubt himself all over again, hadn't made him fear another unexpected betrayal like the one Maxie had pulled on him. But, he trusted Jason more than he'd ever trusted anyone in his life despite all that and if Jason said he was going to fix it, he would. Spinelli fell silent for a long moment, decisions and responses spinning in his head at what seemed like warp speed.

Jason watched him carefully, obviously waiting for some sort of response to his veiled admissions.

"What, exactly, were you avoiding?"

He knew he'd have to say it to truly convince Spinelli. It was probably the only way to do so, given how much he'd trouble he'd gone to in dodging any attempts at conversation on the subject. So, he did. "I love you." He said, tone hushed and quiet, but he'd moved closer so Spinelli easily caught the whispered words. "I'll do whatever I have to do to prove it to you."

The hand he had been holding and absently stroking was suddenly snatched from his grasp. That move was abruptly followed by Spinelli averting his face from Jason. Spinelli actually tried to turn his entire body away, as well, but with a sharp gasp of pain he aborted the motion as the reality of his grievous injuries once more became startlingly evident.

"Spinelli!" Was Jason's agitated and concerned reply as he moved to stop the younger man's foolish movements, worried that he might have done something to make his situation worse. He wasn't sure he could take watching Spinelli go through another surgery or another close call. "Are you okay?" He reached over and tried to turn Spinelli's face back toward him so that he could see his eyes, could ascertain what had happened to produce this unexpected rejection, but Spinelli could be decidedly stubborn when he wanted to be, and so he resisted Jason's efforts to make him look at him. His hand came away wet which meant Spinelli was crying

"You can go," his voice was low, strangled sounding and there was an element of something indefinable contained within it, something which made the stark pain in Jason's chest resurface with a vengeance.

"That's what you want?" Jason slid off of the bed and sat back in his chair, his defenses – way down with Spinelli, but always close to the surface - were starting to re-establish themselves and his own voice was harsh and distant sounding, even though he felt like his insides were being twisted in a vice. "I don't understand," he softened his tone, leaned forward once more, suddenly unwillingly to give up this prospect of something wonderful, something life affirming and life determining, without a fight. "We...you and I, just a minute ago...things we're good and now…" He trailed off and let his honest confusion show.

Now he could see a slice of Spinelli's face, a tear stained cheek, a corner of mouth pulled down in misery and pain, a glimmer of an eye looking at him with betrayal and maybe even that most foreign of emotions for Spinelli - anger.

"That is correct, Stone Cold," his voice was dull, emotionless, matching the expression on his face. "I was consoled to have you here, to know that you cared enough to see your Jackal through this time of both physical and emotional tribulation. That is, until you decided to be mendacious."

"Mendacious?" Jason echoed, not quite sure what Spinelli was getting at, "You think... you think I'm lying. Spinelli..." He moved to sit on the edge of the bed once again and tried to grab for the boy's hand, but he pulled out of reach, tucking it across his chest. His entire body posture was rigid with opposition at the thought of Jason touching him.

"I deserve better, Jason. You owe me the truth and the truth I can take." He paused, biting his lip and he turned with another grunt of pain, to shift his body so he was once again facing toward his mentor. "I don't need you to pretend that you... care for me." He said the words as though they tasted bitter and he wanted them off his tongue as soon as possible. "I know, that you probably thought it was for the best, that if you convinced me to believe you had feelings for me it would make for a swifter recuperation. I am sure, Stone Cold," Spinelli swallowed as he looked down at the blankets on the bed, unable to meet Jason's eyes any longer, "It was done, as are all your acts, with the best of intentions but I assure you I can recover without false protestations of your undying love for me."

Jason was floored, "You think I told you that I loved you so that you'd get better faster?" His voice was barely audible as he spoke the unfathomable words.

Spinelli still wouldn't look at him but he nodded his head dumbly, for once seemingly lacking the ability to form words with which to reply.

Jason dry scrubbed at his face in frustration, "That's ... that's just the dumbest idea you've ever had. And you've had plenty of 'em."

Spinelli's head jerked up and his eyes flashed in anger as he once again found his tongue. "You deny the Jackal's assertion then?" He asked, his voice sharp and challenging.

Jason leaned forward in response - words were Spinelli's weapon of choice, action his. He caught the hacker's face between his two hands, holding it with a gentle firmness as he leaned in to press his lips against Spinelli's. At first it was just a contact of two mouths, the pressure barely there but Jason couldn't contain himself, not after everything he'd endured these past few hours, not after almost losing his chance at this most precious opportunity.

He nipped at Spinelli's bottom lip insisting on entry and the younger man gave way, a moan erupted but it would impossible to say from whom, they were both so intertwined. Jason probed his mouth with his tongue, the smoothness of cheeks and the rougher surface of the tongue intoxicating him, making him dizzy.

Some part of his brain - the sane, coherent part - abruptly reminded him that Spinelli had just been shot twice, operated on twice, had nearly died several times, and that now wasn't really the time for this. Later, and for months and years and hopefully decades hence would be the time for this, but right now enough was enough.

He pulled away, the blood pulsing through his veins and his lips tingling, he was panting and so was Spinelli, breathing so hard that it quite alarmed Jason.

"What... was that?" Spinelli gasped out, his eyes enormous on his paper white face. The machines monitoring his breathing and heart rate had gone red in alarm, and no doubt someone would come to see what was happening soon.

"Proof," Jason responded briefly as he searched the bed for the call button to ensure help was en route. "Now lie back, you idiot, before you start having another panic attack and stop breathing again. I am not going through that again." With a wry grin, he held up his right hand swathed in bandages. "I don't think the hospital would appreciate any more holes in their dry wall, either."

Spinelli stared at the injured hand, it was the first time he'd registered it. "Stone Cold injured himself when he heard the Jackal was in extremis?" He asked in wonderment.

Jason looked at him, his brilliant blue eyes meeting Spinelli's, "I thought I'd lost you, Spinelli, and I didn't know what to do. I just knew if you died then nothing would be good ever again." He knew the nurse was coming in response to the page but he had to say this, "Can you forgive me? For not being honest before, for needing to have something so horrible happen to finally realize what you mean to me?" He looked at Spinelli, waiting for his answer, his future hanging in the balance.

He got his reward. That smile, the one which always made him think the sun was shining even when it was raining, broke across Spinelli's face and this time it was Jason's hand which was raised to Spinelli's lips, the kiss feather light. "You always forgive the ones you love, Stone Cold, always."


	8. Chapter 8

Before It's Too Late

**_Rated for what could be considered triggering topics. Written on request from suerum. FIC IS NOW OFFICIALLY FINISHED. This is the last chapter, wrapping up loose ends and whatnot. Thanks for sticking around and reading. OC's are mine, whether or not I want them, GH characters are not. Reviews are awesome. Enjoy!_**

* * *

**Chapter 8  
**

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_A PCU student is to be recognized by both the Mayor of Port Charles and the PCPD with the distinguished 'Citizen Award for Bravery' for the heroic actions and extreme courage shown during the hostage crisis on campus early last month where four people were killed. The student, one Damian Spinelli, who suffered critical wounds in the fallout of attempting to reason with the gunman, was nominated by his fellow classmates. We'll be on location to cover the event this afternoon._

[][][][][]

The brief news report that played between last night's sports scores and the weather update aired on Channel 2 and its corresponding radio station at exactly 10:58, went unheard by Damian Spinelli, who was soundly asleep against his lover's chest.

It was not, however, unheard by Jason Morgan. The radio sitting on the bedside table played softly in the background, but the news report had caught his attention for obvious reasons. He smiled down at the younger man curled up in his arms and silently weighed the pros and cons of letting him continue to sleep. If it weren't for the award, they could probably have gotten away with just staying here all day – it wouldn't hurt Spinelli, he'd been having trouble sleeping, up late with nightmares that he'd only just told Jason about. But, as it stood, they had about an hour and a half to get up, get ready, and get to the MetroCourt for the ceremony.

"Spinelli," Jason said quietly, one hand dragging lazily through Spinelli's bed-head hair. "Come on." He continued, pressing a kiss to the top of the younger's head, which was easy enough given that Spinelli's face was buried against Jason's shoulder. "Time to get up."

"Nnngh…" Was the unintelligible reply received in response. Spinelli's very recently un-casted right arm curled and tightened over Jason's chest as a more coherent answer began to form. "Don't want to. The Jackal is far too comfortable to even begin to contemplate the mere idea of moving."

"A little while longer, then." Jason agreed, tightening his own hold on Spinelli. They stayed like that for several long moments, before he broke the peaceful silence. "You still want to do this, right?" It had been a highly debated issue at the start. Someone representing the Mayor had come to General Hospital just days after the incident. Already, the other students had nominated him. Spinelli wasn't sure about it – wasn't sure he wanted to go through what was sure to be a very emotionally wrought event – and Jason had promised to back whatever decision he made. Eventually, the other students convinced Spinelli to go through with the ceremony. Only once he was better, of course.

It had taken three weeks to get released from the hospital. And another four of resting and re-learning the limits of his lungs at the Penthouse and doing physical therapy for his arm before the Doctors – and Jason – had dubbed him fit to do something so stressful. That had been a week ago. Now the day was here.

Spinelli shrugged. "A little too late to stop it now, isn't it?" He answered, and before Jason could suggest catching a plane and going away, or even simply just staying here all day – that it wasn't too late, he amended his statement. "But, yes, I suppose I do."

Jason wasn't entirely convinced, but he let it go. He had supreme veto powers – he could pull Spinelli out of the ceremony at any time if things got too bad. "Then we really need to start moving."

Spinelli frowned as Jason extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and blankets. "I take it back!" He jokingly called as his lover headed for the bathroom to grab a shower. Reluctantly, he climbed out of bed himself and headed after Jason.

* * *

A full crowd filled the large conference room at the MetroCourt. Many professors and students from PCU were present, as were several law enforcement officers of various statuses, and a handful of news crews. Friends of Spinelli, and the family and friends of the fallen, were there as well. Spinelli's eight classmates were seated up front - their families and friends just behind them - with Mayor Floyd and Mac Scorpio, as Police Commissioner. Jason was hovering just off to the side of the event, leaning against a nearby wall in case Spinelli needed him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the Mayor began, once the event had officially begun. He and Mac stood on the elevated stage at the front of the room, Spinelli beside them. "The events last month at Port Charles University were truly devastating. Four lives were lost to the actions of Richard Aldridge, but were it not for the brave and selfless measures taken by Mr. Damian Spinelli here, the outcome could have been drastically worse. On recommendation from Mr. Spinelli's fellow classmates – James Alvarez, Aiden Connor, Megan Ely, Steven Jansen, Rebecca Lowery, Katie Simms, Emily Tanner, Leah Taylor, and Heather Zucco – and with the full support of the Port Charles Police Department, I am honored to present the Citizen Award for Bravery to Damian Spinelli."

Everyone applauded as Spinelli stepped forward. Mayor Floyd offered him a certificate denoting the award and Mac slid a medal over his head. "Good job, kid." The Commissioner quietly told him, and clapped him lightly on the back before he and the Mayor stepped away.

Nervous and quite self-conscious in front of such a large crowd of people, Spinelli was suddenly thinking this wasn't such a good idea. Should have definitely gone with staying in bed with Jason all day.

But it was definitely too late for that now.

"Thank you." Spinelli said, hands gripping the edges of the podium on the raised stage so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Finally, the applause died down and he could speak. "First, ugh, I think we should have a moment of silence to show respect to those whose lives were claimed in the aforementioned incident. Professor Aaron Killian, Sara Hart, and Nathan and Jack Wiley."

Jason watched on as Spinelli dropped his head to initiate the requested moment of silence and everyone else did the same. It ended a brief moment later and Spinelli was forced to return to his awkward speech. He'd planned out what he wanted to say, had practiced bits of it with Jason, but that was different. He hadn't brought notes with him, either.

"Right. So, I'm not – really sure what I'm doing." Spinelli started, faltering in his words. Jason took a step away from the wall, so he'd be in Spinelli's line of sight, and nodded, urging him on. "I, ugh. I don't believe I really deserve this, in all honesty." A few whispered comments passed between members of the audience who didn't find such a comment terribly fitting, but it didn't matter because it was the truth. "I am not convinced that we," he gestured to the other students from his class and then placed his hand on his own chest, well aware of his proximity to the mostly healed reminders of that evening. "Or especially I should be commended for doing that which is fundamental to our existence - surviving under adverse conditions. After all, what occurred in that room wasn't something any of us expected or went looking for and all we did, any of us, was try and live through it. I was fortunate in that I have had courage and bravery role-modeled for me on a daily basis," here he glanced over at Jason and sent him a small smile, his eyes shining with love. "And perhaps on that night, I was channeling some small speck of that fortitude which enabled me to speak up and try and deflect that which couldn't be truly altered. Can I positively say that if I hadn't engaged Richard Aldridge in dialogue that the outcome would have been worse? I cannot, and conversely I most certainly cannot be sure that if I remained silent some of those in the room might still be with us today."

Spinelli was somber now, as he stared resolutely down at the podium and gathered his thoughts. When he looked up at the audience, the heartbreak clearly evident on his face communicated itself to everyone, and Jason felt his heart twist in empathy as he longed to hold and comfort his lover.

"There are nightmares, and moments in the middle of the day where the memories just take over and we're all back in that room again. I struggle with those unending questions of 'what if' and 'if only' on a daily basis and I expect I shall do so for the rejoinder of my life, for there will not be, cannot be, any resolution to being inadvertently forced to play a role in such a life altering and traumatic event as we all were." He swallowed, and you could have heard a pin drop in the conference room. Many people were crying silently, especially those who had been witness to the events of that awful night.

But, now Spinelli looked around the room and instead of avoiding everyone's eyes, he met them squarely, staring straight into their souls and commanding them to hear him. "Yet, the truth is that I... we," again he gestured toward his fellow students, "did survive. We will live, and we will one day have our own futures ensured in the existence of our progeny. So, it is our duty to live our lives as best we can, fully in and of the moment so that we honor on a daily basis those whose lives were foreshortened by the swift injustice of disloyal projectiles who answer to no one but the immutable laws of physics and the tainted hand of paranoia. So, I suggest that you go out and feel the sunshine on your face and declare your affection to those that matter to you because there is no yesterday, no tomorrow, and there are no guarantees. There is only this singular moment and it shall never come again, so I implore you to take advantage of it before it's too late."

Abruptly, he stepped back from the podium and there was silence for a long moment as the mystified audience absorbed the fact that his speech had reached its conclusion. Then the applause began, loud and sustained, but Spinelli was no longer on the raised platform to receive it.

He had stepped off and was currently taking his own advice. Spinelli was wrapped up tightly in Jason's arms, kissing and being kissed with a breathless passion. And as Jason led him away from the crowd, amidst the raucous catcalls and whistles of approval that had morphed out of the applause as a result of their display, Spinelli realized that the knowledge that he was truly loved, was all he needed, all he had ever wanted, and in the end analysis it had been in front of him all along.

So live like you mean it  
Love 'til you feel it  
It's all that we need in our lives  
So stand on the edge with me  
Hold back your fear and see  
Nothing is real 'til it's gone

And hold on before it's too late  
We'll run till we leave this behind  
Don't fall just be who you are  
It's all that we need in our lives…

It's all that we need in our lives


End file.
